Off
by Ventiusx
Summary: Tweek lives a rather inconsistent life, with the appearance of Craig Tucker, this only gets worse.
1. Chapter 1

This is, in fact, my first fanfiction. While I've done writing before, I haven't tried to do anything like this. I suppose I'll continue if people enjoy it?

* * *

If I had one wish it would be that my life was somewhat ordinary and I could be an ordinary child. This had the same likelihood as a turtle out-speeding a rabbit. Impossible, improvable, down-right unlikely. With both the mental conditions I have, and the amount of times I must switch up friends it grows rather hard to keep a consistent pattern.

This has always been a well-known fact of my life, I hadn't even a set group of friends as a child. While I did have some nice friendships here and there, people tended to avoid me. Or at the very least, they would leave after a meager month or two of acquaintanceship. I didn't mind, or, well, I was far too used to it. I suppose they have reason to avoid me, my outbursts often annoyed or frightened others. Though I had little control over this. Whatever.

My fingers lace around the button-up shirt. It was nearly identical to many of the others littering my room, as I liked the texture of this brand. It was soft. Calming.

I liked the feeling.

The buttons were lazily done, though each button was through its correct hole. Unlike when I was younger, I'm now able to put the shirts on correctly. I couldn't honestly be expected not to fix that, as a highschooler it would be quite embarrassing to be incapable of buttoning a simple shirt. I wasn't stupid, even if people choose to believe otherwise.

Slugging my book-bag over my shoulder, I stumble down the stairs of my small house down to the living room. It was clean, really clean. His mother wished for everything to be pristine and perfect. It was overwhelmingly clean, but that also was endearing, somehow. I shuffle into the kitchen before grabbing my favorite thermos, pouring the coffee from the pot that his parents brewed an hour or so ago.

This was routine. I like this part of the day. It was simple, followed an orderly fashion. Not like the rest. The day could have any number of problems, ranging from simple therapist appointments to someone choosing me as their next punching bag. My parents could leave for a few days, they will now and again, after all. I could slip and fall, smashing my head on the side of a rock. Bombs could go off, destroying the entirety of South park. There were too many risks leaving my house. I have to go, nonetheless. I legally have to go to school.

As soon as the coffee was properly mixed with a spoonful of sugar and a tad of milk, I drag myself out the door. Due to the rather small size of the town, school was within walking distance of everyone's house. This was nice, in my opinion. I don't know how other children feel about it. I don't listen.

I always try to arrive at school earlier than needed. This gave me time to relax, drink my coffee, and perhaps finish up any unfinished busy work the teacher chose to give me. Today was a good day, as I had succeeded in this task. I found a seat on a bench near my first period and wasted little time to close my eyes and sip on the sweet nectar of coffee. I was calm, ready for anything life decided to throw at me.

Or so I had originally thought.

It wasn't like I hadn't heard the footsteps approaching me, though I passed them off as the simply someone attempted to walk to the bathroom. Or somewhere other than the bench I currently resided upon. This was a bad assumption, apparently, as a soft thud could be heard and the seat vibrated from the sudden weight being placed upon it. My eyes open wide, and my head jerks to see who it was.

"Agh!" I screech, impulsively. The person whom so casually sat next to me was a particular 6'1 football player. One who happened to wear a dull blue hat at all points in time. This kid was Craig Tucker.

I had once been friends with the stoic boy. We were ten or eleven, back when we had a fight. It was funny, how sharing one hospital room can strengthen ones relationship. In fact, I'd go as far as to say were were best friends as young children, but that was then and this is now.

He didn't speak, just sat there, playing with his smartphone idly. It was strange, having someone sit next to me. That never happened, at least not often. While Butters or Thomas may occasionally stop by and say hello, then tended to great me upon sitting. Craig clearly did not. Perhaps he had no intention of it.

"U-uh, hi Craig!" I squeak out, gently, carefully. Fearfully. I couldn't help but be nervous about the whole thing, and the reasoning for him choosing to sit next to me was much a mystery.

He gave a simple grunt for response. Neither of us speak for the rest of the time. I simply go back to sipping my coffee carefully, and he returned to playing on his phone. Eventually he even goes as far as to put his headphones in, drowning out any outburst I may have.

It was kind of... calming.


	2. Chapter 2

For the few weeks, Craig has sat next to me everyday without fail. Each day, neither of say a single word to one another. It's kind of unnerving when I think about it, reminding me of sitting at a table with nobody speaking. It's… different than that, though. It's calming. As if nothing bad can happen if he sits next to me.

Some days he comes a bit late, with a fairly grumpy look plastered on his smooth face. I never ask why, we don't talk, after all! It freaks me out at times, trying to figure out what would even cause him to come so grumpy looking.

I don't spend much time thinking about how this bothers me. It makes me nervous, and when I'm nervous I twitch and yelp like some sort of possessed squirrel.

This happened to be one of those days. Craig arrived to the bench late, throwing his backpack to the ground next to him. He spends little time before returning to his phone, as usual. He became part of my day within routine. I liked that. I like routine.

"Morning." a nazily voice nearby greeted. Jerking my head to the side, I see Craig. Staring straight at me with those bright blue eyes. This was not routine. I was unsure if I disliked it.

"Agh! H-hey!" Smooth, Tweek. Though I couldn't be too much to blame, my social skills certainly need sharpening and I'm not entirely sure how I'm even supposed to act around Craig. I barely knew him, after all.

It was silence after that. He didn't respond for what seemed like forever, and he even returned his gaze to the cellphone in his hands. When he did finally speak up, it was a simple question. "Do you want to come over? After school?"

This was an innocent enough question, but it didn't stop the fact that this wasn't exactly something I had assumed would come out of the boy's mouth. We hardly knew one another! I pondered over his motives, what could he possibly want from me? Was this whole sitting-with-Tweek thing a plan to get me killed without anyone finding out? It was driving me crazy!

"S-sure." Why did I say that? And as if to make matters worse, immediately afterwards the school bell rang, alerting students to get to their first period. Craig stood up, and quietly slung his backpack over his shoulder, heading off to the class adjacent from my own.

I sat there in some sort of a daze, spending a few moments simply sitting there dumbly as students bump and turn to get to their classes on time. I snap out of it after a short period of looking rather idiotic, and quickly slip into my class.

The questions never left me even as I sat in my classes. It was preventing even the simplest of tasks to be completed. What he wanted to do was driving me completely insane, and causing my anxiety to jump. This caused my twitching and outbursts to not only be more frequent, but last long. This annoyed me, the teachers, and all the students who were forced to hear or see me.

When the bells that signaled our release from school finally went off, I was the first student in my classroom to bustle out of the door and make an attempt to escape through the halls. I kept my eyes focused on my feet as I walk, not wanting to look up. THUD.

I ran straight into someone. Looking up, I see the taller boy whom I had promised to meet up with. He stared for a while, before a smile curled on his face and he let out a laugh.

This wasn't something I had expected from him. While I doubted that Craig was completely emotion-void(though I did have my suspicions), seeing him laugh so carelessly was strange.

"S-shut up!" I yelp, punching him in the arm playfully as I stumble backwards.

"Hey! Don't be rude." he snickered, ruffling my hair with his colossal hands. They were rough, and the tips of each of his fingers were callused. He seemed careful about how he handled me, as though he believed he could break me in an instant. "Are you ready?"

"Yeah." and the two of us exited the school, and began to make our way down the streets. It wasn't exactly something I was ready for, in a sense. We weren't strangers, mind you, but friends wasn't exactly the correct term either. Neither of us made any move to speak to one another the entire time we sat next to each other, save for today.

"So what have you been up to?" he asked on the way, breaking the silence that seemingly loomed over the two of us.

"Nng… Nothing much." This was half-true.

"Mm." We made it to his house then, he glanced at me before opening the door carefully.

The inside of his house differed from my own. While my house was rather clean, his was cluttered. Not like it was extremely dirty or anything, but trinkets and picture frames covered every surface. The inside of the house was painted bright blue. Nobody seemed to be within the walls currently.

He wasted no time to plop onto the couch and boot up his xbox, patting the seat next to him. I don't object, as I, as any teenage boy, enjoy playing games.

"Choose a game, if you'd like." he told me, and I glance at what he has. A lot of titles I recognized, such as Fear 2, or Destiny. Others were a bit more obscure, like House of the Dead III. I was unoriginal and pulled out Call of Duty:Modern Warfare 3. I actually own that game, and I consider myself to be rather decent at it.

I suppose I surprised Craig with my skills at COD. While I am jumpy, and surprise attacks cause me to yelp, my skills with the UMP45 came in handy. I won 6 out of the 8 games we played.

I'm not sure how, or when it happened, but I woke up with my head on Craig. He was asleep still. I glanced at the clock near the Tv. It was ten o'clock. On a school night. Panicked, I shake him gently.

"Craaaaig." I whine, shaking him a bit harder now. His eyes flutter open, and he glanced at me.

"What?"

"It's ten o'clock! School started two hours ago!"


	3. Chapter 3

Ah! I'm sorry for how short all of these tend to be- I'm a role-player so I'm not exactly completely used to having to push out more than 3 paragraphs at once. I suppose I lack patience for such a thing. Also dialogue? Not something I'm used to writing by myself ahaha

Nonetheless, I hope you enjoy. I'll be sure to give it some more action and what not when I cement Craig and Tweek's relationship a bit more! I personally have been enjoying writing this!

Also- any panic-attack related details are actually derived from experience. That's kind of why I chose to write this under the perspective of Tweek, since I can understand that kind of character much more than ?

Should I keep doing these short but quick chapters or go down the path(and honestly I prefer this when reading) of updating less frequently with longer chapters? I've noticed how short my chapters are.. My favorite size for reading is, like, 2000 to 10000 words a chapter, and I suppose I could pull that off, if nobody minds waiting for... a while.

I was also wondering if anyone would like a small picture to go with the story each chapter? I'm not extremely great at drawing or anything, but I do believe I can do a nice job. It is a hobby of mine. (much more than writing, for sure)

Unrelated to the fanfiction Tourabu is such a butt to play ugh /shut up ven/

This is also AO3 on if you prefer that website. I'm under the username 'Demonicfishyfurball', the story is still 'Off'

* * *

I'm not sure how, or when it happened, but I woke up with my head on Craig. He was asleep still. I glanced at the clock near the Tv. It was ten o'clock. On a school night. Panicked, I shake him gently.

"Craaaaig." I whine, shaking him a bit harder now. His eyes flutter open, and he glanced at me.

"What?"

"It's ten o'clock! School started two hours ago!" Despite how worried I was about the predicament we have gotten ourselves into, Craig seems entirely unaffected. Glancing at the clock himself, the boy simply shrugs and lifts himself off of the couch, stretching as he did so. Though I trembled and twitched, rapidly glancing around for wherever I flung my book-bag once reaching his house the previous day, he didn't seem to mind. It was as though I wasn't panicking to him!

What if my parents find out I was gone half the school day? Oh god, how do they feel about me being missing all night? Did they notice? Do they care? In fact, will my teacher notice, are they upset at me? The more these questions fill my mind the tighter grip I hold on my hair. I didn't know I had gripped it until I felt the pain. I feel dizzy. This happens when I panic. I think that's normal. I didn't take my medication- oh god. I was supposed to take it last night- but I was here!

Craig grabbed his own bag, and apparently during my frenzy of fear and panic, had filled my thermos with coffee. I was surprised he thought of that- I hadn't spent any time thinking about coffee(which honestly surprised me more than his consideration). I wrap my sweaty hands around the warm container and bring the liquid to my mouth, sipping it quietly. I almost forgot about my worries, and I instantly calm down. Kind of.

"Relax. There was an assembly today. Lasting until Lunch." This was like music to my ears. While I personally don't wish to skip assemblies ever- what if there's important stuff to learn?- this meant there was no proof I hadn't arrived at school. It was almost too good to be true, but it _was_ true!

"O-oh! G-great.." While panic still filled my, at least I wasn't entirely screwed.

"It'll too much of a hassle to sneak into the assembly itself. We got two hours. What'cha want to eat?" Two hours?! Eat?

"Aaah! Whatever you want.." I sit back down onto the couch, my head felt too heavy from the panicking to keep standing up-right like that.

He moves into the kitchen and begins to cook. I watch him carefully. It wasn't anything fancy, just scrambled eggs and bacon. Simple. Easy. Effective.

I have no objections to the meal. In all honestly, I was growing rather hungry as it was. I watch him as well as I can, but soon loose interest. Leaning against the palm of my hand, I close my eyes and rest them. I rely on my sense of smell to tell me how soon the food will be finished cooking.

It didn't take long, obviously. Both weren't exactly 'slow' cooking foods. He pulls out two plates, which I notice simply by the clanking sound they made while being pulled out. Craig approaches me soon after, handing me the plate. It wasn't a lot of food, and I thank him for that, in my mind. With lunch so soon it was smart. He probably thought about that. Craig is smart.

Neither of us speak while eating, I don't see why we would! We simply ate our food with little thought. This was nice, I wonder if living outside my parent's domain would be like this. Probably.

After the short meal time, we head out of the house. With still an hour and a half to spend mindlessly wandering the streets, and avoiding officer Barbrady(which honestly wasn't very hard- he was quite the oaf). I liked the simplistically of it. It almost made me forget that me and Craig weren't friends for long.

Wait, Friends? I shake my head. Probably not.

Craig does most of the speaking as we wander around, occasionally hoping into shops when we spot someone who could call us out. I honestly never heard him talk so much in my life. He told me about his relationship with his friend Clyde, whom I always thought was quite funny. About how Token was always the peacemaker still, preventing fights between Craig's group and "the Boys"(aka Stan and his group of friends), even though that Craig was the one who was so eager to fight(not that he would admit that to me, but I could tell). He also spends a bit of time talking about the other two people, who, like me, were once part of their group. He says that Clyde, Token and him didn't like them as much as they'd hoped, and the others grew bored of Craig's aggression. Craig was always a bit of a trouble maker.

It was strange. I hardly noticed time pass by when we hung out, but soon the time grew dreadfully close to lunch and we had to retreat to the highschool to prevent being marked absent. It kinda made me sad, knowing that a day like this wasn't likely to happen again. My thoughts were broken up when Craig spoke,

"Wanna eat lunch with me, Token and Clyde?" He asked, glancing at me. Did Craig like me? Did he view us as friends? I grip the edges of my shit, tugging on them. I stop when the boy gives my hand an intense glare, signaling that he didn't want me to destroy my shirt. Or something.

When we made it to the table after grabbing the ever-so-disgusting lunch food, I sit down next to him. I remain close to the boy, I suppose a bit too close. But I was scared! What if his friends didn't like me?

They carried on as normal. Not as if I didn't exist, no, but they didn't question why I was there. They spoke to me as if we never stopped being friends all those years ago, teasing me about my twitching and asking if I finished homework. It was.. nice. It was nice being accepted for once. I was so used to being alone, I forgot how nice having friends really was. Maybe I will keep these guys. I tighten my grip on

* * *

I don't speak to Craig or the others for the rest of the day. Not because they avoided me, or vise versa, but I wanted to get home as soon as possible, and take my medication. So I do.

Walking home alone was so boring, the sounds of cars and wind were all that spoke to me. That's pathetic sounding, and it's weird how quickly I grew attached to the others. Life felt honestly weird without hearing chattering voices, which made me concerned. How could I grow so used to something within a day? It felt stupid. I felt stupid. I tighten my grip on the thermos, my thermos, the thermos I brought everywhere.

I reach my door, and grab onto the knob. Then I realized, suddenly, I wasn't home last night. Nor did I inform my mother or father where I was. I had my phone with me, why didn't I check it? I'm so stupid. I couldn't just sit there on the porch forever, I had to walk inside sometime. Out here, in the freezing cold, I could catch any number of diseases or conditions sitting out here.

This thought is what made me grab the knob and turn it, rushing inside to be greeted with... silence. I look around my house, a bit panicked now. The tan walls inside weren't blood-splattered, suggesting that my parents at least weren't stabbed to death! I then notice the note on the counter. Dated to get to me yesterday. Oh..

'Dear Tweekie,

We're going out of town for tonight, returning tomorrow. Clean behind your ears, baby!

-Love, mom.'

I like how she doesn't say where she was going. Or why, and how she used that god-awful nickname.

I suppose I was lucky.

I finished this guy in one day

* * *

Kinda proud of myself, I'm not a quick writer.

While it did take several hours, I think this was probably my fastest chapter. God, that's pathetic lmoa


	4. Chapter 4

After receiving the letter given by my parents, I spend little time dawdling before running up the stairs to my room. Under normal circumstances I would have ate a snack, or further investigated why my parents weren't currently in the house.

However, I was afraid. I hadn't taken my medication yesterday and I didn't want to know what would happen. I never skipped or forgot before and it scared me. A lot.  
So I stumble up the stairs, holding onto the railing. That was habitual, after all. I turn into my room once I reach the top of the stairs, slipping into it.

My room isn't very clean, unlike the rest of the house. Shirts, pants, and other articles of clothing litter the floor. I have items covering the top of surfaces, ranging between picture frames, to garbage, to stuffed animals. The brown painted walls had occasional chips, or cracks on them. This is due to me banging my head on things when I get overwhelmed. I really oughta stop that habit.

My medication sits in a drawer under my TV, and I quickly pull the stiff sliding drawer out, digging through its contents until I laid eyes on the containers. 60 MG of Citalopram, 36 MG of Concerta, and 1MG of ClonazePAM. I take all three.

Hopping onto my bed, I instantly feel better. No, it's not because of the medication. That takes 30ish minutes to kick in, but the dread of not taking the pills finally wears off. I'm left to my own accord. Though honestly bored out of my mind, it's nice to be able to just sit and think, and not have to entertain or listen to someone else. In the respect this was relaxing. But also boring. It was dreadfully boring.

I roll onto my side, curling into a ball to make myself as small as possible. This was nice. Normal. My eyes flutter shut and I begin to rest.

My nap was soon interrupted by the sound of my phone. I roll onto my other side, making a loud audible groaning noises. It goes off again. I make a louder noise, and as if to counter it, the phone makes one more buzz. I give in, sitting up and pulling it off my night stand. Whoever it was better be dying. Wait! No! What if I get questioned? The pressure would kill me!

I turn on the phone, changing to the messages in a matter of seconds. Three texts from an unknown number.

'Hey, it's Craig. Didn't see ya after school. Do you always leave so early?'  
'Anyways I'm bored af wanna chill or are you too busy'  
'dont fall asleep this time though'

For a split moment, I wonder how he even got my phone number. I don't dwell on it. He probably got it from my phone as I slept. He'd be that creepy, I think. What I did dwell on was his eagerness to hang out. We had just done it today, and yesterday. Maybe another couple hours would be nice... I don't like to be alone. It makes me wonder what could come out and kill me, and I don't want to think about that! My parents still weren't home! So I agree, sending out a message. I look it over once, twice, three times before deciding it looks good enough.

'Oh, uh, sure! Could we do it here, though?'

I stand up, beginning to tidy up my room a bit. Throwing the clothing into a pile in the corner, throwing away garbage, normal stuff. I wasn't just going to let my room be such a mess! My phone makes another noise.

'That's perfect. I'll be there in 10'

Yelping, I skid down the hall and to the bottom floor. I make another cup of coffee as I wait. I'm probably going to need it. I sat near the door, staring at it with my eyes wide. I was waiting for him!

I wasn't waiting for long, however. A knock could be heard from my door and I spent little time lingering around. I dashed to the door, yanking it open. I stumbled back, and give a small grin to the tall boy who stood at my doorstep.

"Hi!" Then I notice it. Craig's face is bright red, and tears were practically frozen to his face. I also noticed… bruises and cuts littering the parts of his body that weren't hidden. He had a bag with him.

I frown, pulling him inside the house before leaning forward, examining him further.

"Craig! W-what happened?" He looks away, avoiding eye contact. He wipes the tears from his eyes, trying to hold them back. He wasn't doing a good job. I began to tear up myself from seeing him in such a bad state. Why didn't he say it was this urgent?

"Dad." was all he said. My heart sank. I give a nod, and don't question it further. "Can I crash here for a while?" he asks, making eye contact again now.

"O-of course!" I squeak out to him, gripping his sleeves gently. I tighten my grip, and begin to lead him to the upstairs bathroom.

"We need to clean you up!" I tell him, glancing over at his face as he stumbles a bit from being pulled up stairs. I pull him harder, towards the bathroom at the end of the hall.

I sit him on the toilet, damping one of the towels we have in the house. I crouch next to him, wiping any blood or dirt off of his face. He winces when the cold cloth touched his face. My heart is pounding, I'm scared.

I stare at his now cleaned face, and squint at a cut on the bridge Craig's nose. He raises an eyebrow at me. He wasn't crying anymore. I prefered that.

Scurrying to the cupboards, I toss pill bottles and various medicine things out of the way until I see the bandages box. I pull one out, unwrapping it.

"Is that really necessary?" he questions.

"Yes!" I exclaim, shakily placing the bandage onto the cut on his nose. He flinches, but doesn't fight it. Smiling, I nudge him gently. "Do you.. wanna watch a movie or something? I got a TV in my room."

"Sure." he hums, following after me as I run down the hall and into my room, this time. I practically slam the door open, and leap onto my bed. My face is pressed into the mattress, and I grunt. I love this bed. I soon feel the weight of Craig, whom sprawled out on top of me. I instantly leap, knocking the back on my head against his chest. He lets out a laugh. Craig gets off, and I roll onto my back, sticking my tongue out at the boy.

I grasp at the remote on my nightstand, making grabby hands as I attempt to snag it. I successfully grab it after wiggling a bit, but my front side begins to fall. I feel hands around my waist, and I'm lifted back up to the bed.

"T-thanks," I mumble.

"It's cool." I turn on the TV and boot up the xbox, grabbing the controller next.

"God, do you ever have to leave your room? Xbox on bed?" He asks, raising his eyebrow again. This seemed to be something he did a lot, but at least it showed some sort of emotion.

"Food, and, uh, coffee is needed." I tell him, starting up netflix.

"It was a joke." Craig snickered.

"I know that! G-gah! Choose a movie!" I throw the controller at him, crossing my arms. He scrolls through the genres and movies. I watch carefully. Not that it mattered much to me what he decided to choose. He finally settles on Jurassic park. I like that movie, I mean, who doesn't? Maybe that's why he chose it.

We both lay down on the bed. While we were rather close to one another, it wasn't like we were cuddling. The most contact that happened was when our arms would brush while readjusting.

Occasionally when I would look over he'd be crying. It's not like I didn't expect that, but.. It makes me want to help him, and I know I can't. Plus, why would he trust me anyways? We just reconnected.

Even still, I hope being around someone was helping him. I was here if he needed it, even if I doubt I'm the first one he would come to. That's stupid.

Halfway through the movie I hear the front door swing open, and footsteps began to reach up the stairs and towards my room. I panic, not knowing how my parents will react to me having someone over. I push Craig off the side of the bed, so he wouldn't be visible from the door.

Just as I expected, right after my door swung open. My mom was standing, and gave a happy little smile to me.

"Hey, hun!" she greets me, "We're home- did you finish your homework?"

"Agh! Y-yeah." I squeak out, trying to make sure she doesn't see Craig. I practically hold my breath there.

"Alright, well dinner will be done in about an hour." She tells me, walking out of my room and closing the door.

I glance down at Craig who was sitting up against the side of my bed. He looked at me, and we locked eye contact. I slide down to sit next to him.

"Sorry." I mumble, and he shakes his head.

"It's fine."


	5. Chapter 5

**Wrote this(well, the rough draft) while waiting on the bus for therapy**  
 **Such a pain in my rear-**

 **I spent a while deciding whether or not Craig would be noticed by Tweeks mom**

* * *

Craig and I begin to finish the movie after my mother left the room, retreating to the bed once more. I was much more careful this time, I honestly should've just told my mom that I had a friend over. A lapse of judgment, but destructive none-the-less. I watch him with careful eyes, unsure of how I should feel about him anymore. Craig has shown more emotion today alone than the last five months. It was confusing and filled my mind with questions.

I have trouble focusing on the movie, my mind was racing with other thoughts. How would I be harboring Craig within my house? Why my house, why not a house like Tokens? There's more room to hide- and, and, lots of money, so lots of food! I look back at the TV, blankly watching the velociraptor learn to open the doors. I rest my head on Craig's shoulder, eyes flickering shut. He was comfortable, a worthy pillow.

We sit like this for a while, he would occasionally attempt to shift only to hear my groans of complaint. Why would he shift like that? I was using him as a pillow. Rude.

Soon, my mother knocks on the door, and with her sing-songy voice called out to me from behind the door, "Dinner is ready, dear, I made extra for your little friend."

Craig doesn't really seem surprised that my mom knew he was here, but I certainly was. I let out a loud yelp, which I suppose my mother took as confirmation. Craig glances over at me, and our eyes lock. I give a small nod, scurrying off of my bed. He follows after me, as silent as ever. Now that I think of it, I don't believe either of us have spoken since my mom interrupted us last time. This made sense, as we were trying to keep his existence in my room a secret from my mom originally.

Both of us skid down the stairs, though Craig was much more graceful about it than myself. While I stumbled, and spent the entire time watching my footing. I didn't want to trip, and fall to my inevitable doom. If I fell, I could crack my head open and bleed everywhere! That'd be crazy!

My dad turns around from the table, noticing Craig and I. "Oh, you're the Tucker kid, right?" he questions, slowly eating. He eyed Craig. Did he not trust him?

"Yup." was all Craig humored my father with, voice as dull and emotionless as ever. As if he didn't come to my doorstep crying. I sit down at the table, though I didn't feel hungry. I don't think Craig is either, as he's pushing his food around his plate with his fork. I at least attempted to shovel food into my mouth, eat it reluctantly. I had to eat. As to not upset my mom.

"What have two been doing? I didn't you know two were friends." my mom finally says, breaking the silence that loomed over the table.

"We, NGH, just became friends." I explain, "Can Craig, uh, s-spend the night?" I stammer, rubbing my own arm gently.

"Sure, dear."

I release the breath I wasn't aware I was holding, and stand up. I pick up my plate and bring it to the sink, washing it up. I always do this, it's habit in my family. Craig lingers behind me, looking almost nervous around my parents. I'm unsure why.

"Why are your parents so nice?" He asks once the two of use are outside earshot of my parents.

"They want to make sure I remain happy." and make sure I don't freak out, I think to myself. I don't say that part, obviously.

Upon returning to my room, I don't bother turning the movie back on, I get the feeling that Craig won't complain either. I once again leap onto my bed, and Craig followed after. I watch him, and he seem to lower his guard again.

"I, uh... I'm kinda tired." I tell him, throwing the blanket over myself. He tugs at it, before crawling under it himself.

"Then sleep." Craig responses, curling up next to me.

"Okay.."

* * *

I wake up sometime within the night, I'm not sure when, but it was still early. Probably nothing past 5am. I hear soft sniffling next to me. I glance up, looking over at the young boy laying beside me. He was crying. Again. I reach forward, gripping his shirt. I don't want him to cry, I don't want him to be sad. It made my chest hurt.

I press my face into his shoulder, wrapping his long arm around the boy. I nuzzle into him. I'm not going to let him be sad.

"What are you doing?" he grunts, rolling over to face me. My arms retract to prevent being rolled onto.

"Cheering you up.." I slur, still half asleep.

He doesn't respond. I wrap my arms around him once more, shoving my face in the crook of his neck. I think he stopped crying. I hope.

* * *

I wake up again later on. I'm warm from the body heat of Craig, and I don't bother moving. My eyes move up, glancing at Craig. He's awake still, playing on his phone. God, does he ever put that thing down? I roll over, looking up at him. His face is now a bit above mine, now looking at instead of his device.

"Morning."


	6. Chapter 6

Throughout the days following the time Craig came crawling to my door, the days seemed to connect and melt into one long experience. Each day Craig and I would ask my mother if Craig could stay. While the majority of the time my mother would give a small nod, having no issue letting the other boy spend time with us. However, she did say no once.

Craig happened to have his laptop in his backpack when he arrived, along with about a week's worth of clothing. His schoolwork was left at his house. We called up Ruby to get it back, and she didn't hesitate to bring the papers over to my home and into Craig's hands.

On days that my mom said yes, which was the majority of the time, we either play video games or watch netflix on the tv. His laptop was decent enough to play most mmo's, so we often would play games after school. It was nice, not having to worry. I always got to play games with a friend, and always had someone to calm him down during my episodes. I like it, and he was warm.

However, on day where my mother says no to our begging, Craig slept in the closet with his laptop. We still played games on our separate computers, but simply typed any information to one another instead of speaking. It wasn't as nice, but it was better than nothing. I would sneak food in after hours, giving him whatever I can find. This was the strategy we thought up before she said no, to prevent another incident similar to the first day I brought him in. I didn't want him to get caught.

Craig no longer cried in the middle of the night. He seems to no longer be restless, and doesn't seem to have much on his mind. It's nice, calming. It's strange being so close to the boy, but also perfect. It was as if I had Craig in my life the entire time. He made me feel complete. I wonder if he feels the same way towards me. Doubtful.

This happened to be the day where my mother said yes. It happens to be only five days since Craig began practically living within my room. It was a stormy day, the prat prat of the rain hitting the roof filled out ears. We both sit under a blanket, in my room. The tv showed images, my eyes watching it carefully with my head resting on Craig's shoulder. I'm tired.

I hear the front door open up, and shouting from some sort of male voice. I exchange a glance with Craig, and quickly stand up, rushing towards the sound. Craig makes no movement, clearly frightened. Why? Does he not like yelling and shouting?

I turn the corner and look down the stairs, and then I see it. It's Craig's own father, yelling and spitting at my mom.

"I heard that _my_ kid was around your _fuck-up_!" he spat, lifting his hand as if to hit my mother.

"Excuse you? Craig is a perfectly good child! He's not here, sadly! Please _go_." she barked back, staring at him with that dangerous glare.

"If you don't give me my damned child, I'll call the police on you!"

"If I recall correctly, , Craig has been wounded, and I can't help but come to the conclusion it was because of you!" and then he struck my mom.

I run down the stairs, taking long and steady strides towards the door. I'm not sure what came over me, I just grew so angry. On normal occasions, I wouldn't be caught dead hitting someone, but now.. I was hitting an adult I fear.

In a way, all actions, and lack thereof, are caused by some sort of fear. Fear should've prevented me from striking the adult in the gut, but it didn't. He was taken aback, but struck me in the face. He hits hard, and I land on the ground, tears running down my face. I'm terrified, why did I do that?

My mom's eyes narrow, "Get out. _Get out_." she slammed the door onto his face, quickly returning her attention to me. I look up the staircase to see Craig, holding onto the railing with shaking hands. I look back down at the floor, fingers trembling as I raise a hand to touch my face. I feel the sting, indicating some sort of bruise in my face.

I was brought sat on the couch, and Craig was quick to my side. My mom brings in some coffee to help, and I sip it carefully.

"I'm sorry." Craig says. His arms are crossed on his legs, and he looking down at his feet.

"Don't be. It's not your fault." I murmur, taking another sip of the coffee. It's a mocha, my favorite flavor too. Mint orange mocha.

"I shouldn't of hid here." he said, voice wavering slightly. I look at him, worried. Does he really think this is all his fault? I was the one who attacked the adult without thinking it through, leaving me to get damaged by the retaliation.

"No. I'm glad you did." I hiss out, narrowing my eyes. "Don't talk like you hurt me. _I_ chose to hit him, and _I_ agreed to keep you in my house."

We both fall silent, and my mother calls the cops on the abusive father. We rest, and I calm down. The air thins, and it grows much relaxed. Everyone sits around, and we tell stories to calm our nerves.

Craig speaks up, telling a story now. "A while back me and Clyde were hanging out by the movie theater, and we saw a dog. Being a happy little fellow, Clyde decided to go and talk to the dog. Well, it wasn't so happy to see him. It barked, and chased us-"

"Agh! That's horrible!"

"I'm not done!" Craig snaps at me, before returning to the story without a second thought, "We ran all the way to Stark's pond with the dog trailing behind us. Turns out he chased us only because of the beef jerky stickin' out of Clyde's pocket."

"Why didn't anyone help you?" I question, raising an eyebrow, "That's stupid."

"Don't know, doesn't really matter anymore, ya know?" He shrugged, leaning against the cushion.

Things remain like this for the rest of the night.


	7. Chapter 7

**I'm so sorry this is so short**  
 **Honestly I was only even able to push this out because of a nice review? /**

 **I'm also working on a much better zombie-au sp fic from the perspective of Craig-**  
 **And tweek is a badass there**

 **oxoxoxo**

Chapter Text

After a nice time telling stories to one another, me and Craig migrate to my room. As like the last few days, we split the bed. Unlike the other days, however, I didn't ask my mom. After such an event at the front door, it would be rather dumb to go up to my mother and ask 'Hey, can Craig stay over?' considering she bad-mouthed his abusive father and called the cops on the man. So, considering this fact, I don't bother. Aside from this, we seem to begin our usual routine.

"Wanna play Call Of Duty?" I offer, plopping onto my bed, as normal for our adventures in my bedroom. Ah! That sounds weird. I shouldn't say something like that, it sounds gay!

"No thanks. I'd rather just talk, is that okay?" he asks, sitting down at the foot of my bed, crossing his legs and resting his arms over them. I was taken aback, as Craig has never asked to talk. We always played games. Never just spoke to each other.

"Ngh, uh, S-sure? Why not!"

"Okay. Let's do it as a game though-" he says, watching me carefully with his vivid blue eyes, "For every question I ask, you get to ask one."

"Why?" I yelp, scratching my scalp with my hand, twitching lightly. This sounded stupid, god, I don't want to do anything stupid!

He seems to notice my discomfort, a places a steady hand on my shoulder, "It'll be fine, Jesus Christ, calm your tits, Tweakers."

I gulp, watching him with careful, but almost fearful eyes. Gripping the color of my dull green shirt, I give the other boy a hesitant nod. "Okay. Fine, let's do this." I hiss, crossing my arm, giving a small scowl to him.  
I'm not sure what I expect out of this. What could the other kid ask of me? Nothing too extreme, I assume, but my heart seemed to pound when I thought of having to reveal any sort of secret to him. Did I have any secrets? I don't know if I do, but who knows?

"Have you ever dated anyone?" he asks, placing his hands into his lap gently.

"What? No!" I yelp, gripping my hair with my hands, tugging at it gently. I stare at him, brow furrowing slightly, "Have you?"

"Is that your question?"

"Fine!" I hiss, defeated. I cross my arms and give him a glare, even if it wasn't sincere(and he knew it).

"I've dated one person." he says, as if it was nothing. It wasn't nothing, for god's sake! I wouldn't even know where to start when dating someone, and here he is waving his previous relationship like it was nothing.

"Who was she?" I ask, leaning in with careful eyes. He never seemed to have any girlfriends from what I knew, watching him carefully in the halls when we weren't friends, and from the moment we were friends onwards he never really spoke to any.

"He." the boy then turns his head, avoiding eye contact. I let out a small gasp out of surprise. Though mostly about how dumb I must've been, not connecting it. "I dated Clyde once."

I don't really stay anything to this. What was I supposed to say to this. I pause, before opening my mouth slowly to speak, "You get a question now." I press my palms against the ground, watching h im with wide eyes. This was strange. I'm not sure if I like this game.


	8. Chapter 8

**I always thought it was silly when authors ask for reviews but it really does make you wanna keep writing?**

 **So thank you to everyone who has said nice things!**

 **oxoxoxoxoxxoxooxo**

I can't sleep. I'm curled up in bed, Craig's face close to my neck as he dreams about whatever he wishes to, and I'm stuck here reevaluating the day. Everything recently has been too surreal, too fast, and has been overwhelming me. I commonly don't sleep anyways, but at least then my mind is blank and video games are played. With Craig in the room, and everything that has been happening to the two of us, I am stuck thinking, and nothing is worse enemy than your own mind.

We had played the game for quite a bit after he confessed dating a guy once. I found out he likes chick flicks, and that he doesn't like dogs on the account that they are loud. I tell him about how I wish I had siblings, but never had any, and I was never close to my dad. It was both scary and thrilling both revealing and learning so much.

Today didn't feel like most days we lay next to one another. Most days it was comforting, leaving a light feeling in my chest. It felt like I was floating on clouds. Today it felt like I was falling. A panicked feeling rests on the bottom of my chest, making it hard to breath.

So I lay here, mind playing games to trick and hurt me. I was never a fan of being alone with my thoughts- my paranoia seems to shine when I have nothing to do. Yet, this was exactly what I was doing, with no active moves to change this fact.

Slipping to the side to pull my phone out of my pocket, I make sure not to tuck on the blanket and yank it off of Craig. We commonly share blankets- I don't want many blankets on my bed! None match but my blankets, and having Craig here wasn't going to change the fact that I wanted to keep everything color-coded.

I shuffle back into my place beside Craig, phone now in hand. Turning the brightness down as to not wake him with the light. I'm not sure what exactly I want to do yet, so I tap on the pictures and begin to scroll through to pass my time.

I'm not photographer- not by a longshot- but I do enjoy snapping a picture here and there. I go out for walks sometimes when I have nothing better to do, usually through the woods and by the creek near my house. My trembling can become an issue during the picture taking, but in my opinion the outcome is quite nice in the end, even if it takes a few tries to get it right.

Sometimes my walks out to take pictures is within the night, and it's honestly my prefered time to stroll and potentially snap a few pictures while I'm there. I love how calming the cool, smooth air is and how the pictures look mysterious with the fog that rolls in.

I scroll through my files before coming to my favorite picture. It takes place at Stark's pond, when the stars were out. The moon was especially bright, and it and the stars were reflecting off of the pond water. Sometimes I wonder how I could've taken such a pretty picture- considering I have no talent for such a thing- but that night, it was genius.

I want to go there. Right now. I shift over again, slipping my phone into my pocket as I stand up in one short, fluid motion. I grab my boots and large, puffy green jacket, kneeling over to tie the shoes so they don't go slipping off.

Standing up and slowly edging towards the door with careful, short steps, still afraid of waking Craig, even if it had a slim chance of happening. I close in on the door, wrapping my shaking digits around the handle. I turn the knob.

"Hey? Where are you going?" I hear from behind me, and I jerk to the side to face Craig, who was now sitting on the edge of the bed with a sleepy look on his face. I pull the hood to the jacket over my head, and hastily respond.

"Walk." I whisper, staring at him with wide eyes. I'm surprised that he woke up- I was trying my hardest to be quiet! I twitch awkwardly, still holding onto the door handle. I take short, rigorous breaths, nervous. I was nervous."Actually, grab your jacket too. I have something I want to show you."

Craig does as he's told, with little argument. He grabs his favorite hoodie- even after my protests of how cold it was going to be- and slips his body through it. He also simply stuck his feet into his already-tied sneakers, ready within mere seconds.

We leave the house as stealthily as possible(Craig better then me, as I end up tripping at the edge of the stairs), and I lead him down the road towards the spot I took the picture. The cold, clean air eased me into a serene calmness, and I instantly know this was the right decision. Everything seemed to be falling into place again, wrong becomes right, and the sinking feeling fades out.

Somehow between point A and point B we end up with our fingers laced around one another. This was never my intention, but between the cold air and how close he was, I ended up grabbing his hand. We were talking like we normally do, and I grip him gently. He doesn't even flinch, he just continues to talk about his life.

Once within seeing distance of the pond, I squeeze his hand, "Close your eyes." I tell him, walking in front of the taller boy as if to obscure his view.

"Why?" he protests, looking up to try to see what I could possibly be trying to hide, and I slap my free hand over his eyes.

"If you don't close your eyes I'll kick you off my bed forever."

"Ohh no, I'm so scared." He says, sarcasm dripping from his mouth. I whimper quietly, puffing out my cheeks. He removes my hand from his face, revealing closed eyes.

"All right, all right. Just don't run me into a tree." I frown, not responding to this. I don't need to. I begin to lead him towards the pond with careful footsteps, making sure I do as he asks. I often glance at his, making sure he hasn't peaked.

I pull him to the exact spot I sat when I took the picture, yanking in his arm so he would sit down next to me. For a moment, I stare off into the water, but I quickly draw my attention back to Craig.

"You can open your eyes." I tell him, and he does. Everything felt right. Perfect. This was what my life was waiting for- this is my happy place. By a pond with someone I love. As a friend, of course. He doesn't open his eyes at first, but when he does, there was notable surprise in them.

"I didn't know stark's pond could look so pretty." he said, voice low as if he was trying not to be too loud.

"I like this place. Especially right now." I lay onto the ground, eyes wide as I stare at the stars up in the sky. They're so bright, vivid, as if they are trying to outshine one another in the sky. This is one of the reasons I'm not sure if I'll leave the small town. Big cities fade the stars.

"Do you ever want to leave South park?" I ask, not taking my eyes off of the lights looming above me.

"Once school ends you can bet your ass I'm out of here."

"Won't you miss everyone, though? I mean this is our home."

Craig laid down next to me now, shaking his head. "Most people are leaving, too. Don't you know?"

"No, I didn't."

"Are you going?" he asks, turning to face me instead of the sky. "To leave South Park, that is." I pause, not sure of how to respond to that. I don't honestly know. So that's just what I say.

"I don't know." I tell the other boy, glancing over to his face. It's hard to make out any facial features with the poor lighting of the night sky. "I kind of want to, but I don't know much about life outside of South Park."

"Come with me." he stares at me, bearing neither a frown nor a smile. "Out of South Park. When we can. We can move somewhere nice, like Oregon or Washington."

"Okay." I'm not sure why I say that, but I did. Maybe due to the surreal, calm feeling flooding over me. For once, I has little worries. Everything seemed right in the world. Me and Craig laying side by side, fingers intertwined by the pond we both grew up by, the night giving a cold blanket that engulfed us.

I roll over to the side, burying my face into the other boy's shoulder. "We have to go home." I whisper into his figure. "Mom will go crazy if we're not back by the morning," I suspect he didn't want to leave either, but no protesting was made. We stood up, fingers now alone.

"Alright."


	9. Chapter 9

**Sorry for how long this took to come out! I wanted it to be longer, but before and during the typing of this I've had writer's block, and been kinda depressed lately /**

 **So sorry!**  
 **Anyways, every Review, Follow, and Favorite is appreciated!**

 **oxoxoxo**

Craig spends an excruciatingly long time in the bathroom every morning, getting up at six and spending nearly an hour prettying his own face. I knew living with your best friend would come with a price, but under no circumstances did I realize this would mean I would loose my bathroom. Yes, we had two bathrooms in my house, but I was so used to the upstairs bathroom. It was a part of my routine, and then suddenly, he comes into my life and fucks it all up. Yet, I wasn't that upset. Mostly.

When I confronted him about it(the bathroom dilemma, that is) Craig stuck his tongue out and gave a short response of, 'well, its my bathroom now'. I didn't argue much forward, knowing how stubborn the other boy was, I knew he wasn't going to crack. Not quickly, and not easily, that is. So we left it at that.

Craig ended up getting our extra bedroom, no longer sleeping with me at night. This made sense, yes, but I missed the warmth of his body beside me at night. It helped pull me into the loving arms of sleep and dreams, and without his presence every night, it grows harder for my eyes to finally close and my mind to calm. Sometimes, as to solve this issue, I would crawl into bed beside him. He hardly moved during these situations, simply accepting the fact that I need him at times like that.

Tonight was not one of those nights. I wasn't able to fade out until a little after three, effectively getting only three hours of sleep last night. I knew it was six, considering the alarm I set every night turns on at six sharp, and I have only been sitting in bed for a few minutes, thoughts and concepts flickering rapidly in my head.

The morning routine while has changed, still remained mostly the same. Like before, my parents are long gone by the time we both crawl out of our respective beds. Craig will spend the next hour cleaning himself and styling his black hair, and I take my pills and start breakfast. I can cook fairly well, a skill I earned due to the fact that my parents aren't always home. I consider myself best at pancakes, so I usually cook those. today is no different.

Honestly, the entirety of the cooking job is from muscle memory. Though, if we're going to be honest right now, most of my day is completed by muscle memory. It's how I survive, live. I don't mind it, I prefer it. I switch the burner on, and mix the ingredients in a bowl. As I do everyday. Today was like every other day of my life.

I succeed in cooking six pancakes. None were overcooked, and they smelt great. Craig seems to be ready by the time I placed them on plates, along side some syrup and bananas to top it. Craig sits down at his designated seat. Like usual. We both dig into the food, as usual. Normal. Conversation begins to rise, as every day.

"Token's having a party today. Family is out of the house." Craig says, taking a bite out of his syrup drenched pancake. He always uses a lot of it. I don't know why.

Looking up from my plate, I nod. "You going?"

"Are you?" he asks, implying that he'll go if I do. While I normally avoid situations like that, as it raises my anxiety level, and could lead to a panic attack, I immediately agree. Just like that night, about leaving. The memories still plague me.

"Yeah."

"Cool. It starts at eleven, but we should head early and help Token prepare." he finishes his plate, standing up and heading to the kitchen to rinse his plate.

"I'll text mom about it." and I do so, pulling my android phone from out of my front pocket, clicking on my mom's name and sending her a text.

 **[Hey, mom, me and Craig are going to go with Token home today.]** I don't mention a party, knowing if I do the chances of her saying its okay goes from 99% to 1%. I knew my mom by now, after all. Considering I've lived with the lady all my life.

Craig and I grab our coats and trudge down the cold, snowy road to school. Our breaths were visible in the crisp air, attacking our lungs with the freezing wind. Despite how warmly we both dressed, the cold still was able to attack our skin.

I let out a whimper, "It's too fucking cold." He glances at me, and nods in response.

"I know." he lets out a sigh, blowing hot hair onto his gloved hands, though it didn't do much to defeat the creeping cold that hung over us.

Once school was in sight, Craig's stride quickened. While it wasn't much of a change for someone as tall as himself, my legs weren't quite as long, making each stride he takes difficult to keep up with. Yet. I refuse to tell him to slow down. I refuse to be viewed as weak, even if my short legs aren't exactly something that would label me as weak.

The two of us enter the school, early. We sit down at the spot we used to, by my first period, art, and his, marine biology. It's awfully convenient that our two classes were so close together. It would've been nicer if ours were within the same room, but alas none of our classes aligned, and probably never would, because, well, this was our senior year. Along with that, we take very differing classes. Craig took much more calculating types of classes, like statistics and engineering, while I prefer something like photography or painting. In other words, we were opposites.

"Will we be staying at Token's house?" I ask, breaking the silence that has fallen between us. This wasn't important, but the lack of conversation was beginning to bother me.

"Probably not, but who knows." Craig shrugged, taking his eyes off of his phone. God, he was on that thing all the time. "There's going to be alcohol, so…"

I freeze, he mentioned nothing about alcohol. All my medication advised me to stay clear of intoxication, and while I've broken that rule a few times in the past, it would've been nice to know that now. I glance at my hands, before flickering my attention back at Craig.

"Alright. Hopefully mom won't freak out if we don't return fast enough." I let out a small laugh, sticking my tongue out to him. "It'd probably be better if we stay, though, I mean, what if we leave with alcohol breath and mom finds out and we're grounded forever!" I grip my thermos carefully with my fingers, pulling the container up to my fast and sipping it.

"Mints." Craig says, shaking his head "We'll eat some mints on our way out. Covers alcohol breath enough, in my experience."

"But what is it doesn't?!"

"It will. Don't have a panic attack, asshole." I frown, pushing Craig with all my force. He fell off the bench, landing butt-first onto the hard concrete flooring of the school. While surprised by my strength, I am quite pleased.

"You're the asshole." I sneer, laying my body across the entire bench to stop him from sitting back on.

"I'm the asshole? You just pushed me off the bench!"

"After you called me one!" I respond, and Craig sits onto my back. I let out a yelp, and struggle under his weight. He was heavier than I originally thought, enough to pin me to the bench I once controlled. I let out a huff. "Let me out !"

"I don't know." he hummed, leaning back to put more pressure on my back, "You're kinda being a jerk. Maybe I should sit on you forever."

I let out a noise of protest, and the bell saves me. Craig releases me from his ass of doom, and grabs his bag, punching me on the shoulder. "See you at lunch." My face feels warm, and I nod at him.

"Later."

I have trouble focusing on the painting at hand. I've sketched the scene out earlier, a man surrounded by a field of flowers, and yet, I can't seem to hold the brush steady. Everything around me calls for me to pay attention to it, and my mind keeps wandering. Eventually, however, my mind lands on one thing in particular. Craig Tucker. It bothers me, how no matter what I think about my mind always finds it way to him. It makes my chest hurt and I hate it.

I take the brush and begin to paint the sky a light, light orange. It's a sunset, so its okay if my hands are a bit messy, right? It's not like I'm painting the man right now. I mix the colors around the sun carefully, trying my hardest to keep it as neat as possible. But I am not a neat person, and my art reflects that.

I feel a hand touch my shoulder, and the brush flings up, leaving a nasty streak across the paint. I let out a loud, 'Jesus christ', quickly grabbing the brush off the floor and frantically trying to fix the painting. I get it to look somewhat decent, and my head jerks to face the culprit who caused such a thing.

"Sorry!" a happy voice purred, though it was clear he was not sorry. Kenny gave a toothy grin, blue eyes full of emotion.

Kenny retired his orange parka years ago, choosing to keep his arms free of clothing whenever possible. Probably due to him suddenly growing some muscle, though perhaps due to the protest of everyone around him. His old parka muffled his voice beyond comprehension at times, and everyone made sure to annoy him about it. So the poor child ditched it.

"Who were you thinkin' about?" he asks, leaning onto my desk, blocking my view of the painting I was so carefully working on.

"W-what?" I yelp, taken aback by what he said. What does he mean who was I thinking about?

"Its a girl, right?" he smirks, leaning even closer to my face, the wicked grin growing wider. He seemed interested. "You were blushing like mad, dude." My heart skips a beat. Was I blushing?

"N-no."

"A dude?"

"What?!" I shriek, pounding my hands against the table. This catches the attention of literally everyone in class, and I shrink into my seat, embarrassed. My eyes anxiously flicker around the room, as people's laughter erupts and dies down, leaving me in my embarrassment. "N-no." I continue, "Of course not!"

"Oh my god, you like a guy." Kenny now eases back a bit.

"No." I hiss, looking away. My face feels warm, heated from pure embarrassment.

"Don't try to deny it." Kenny hums, grabbing one of the plastic chairs and pulling it up to my desk. He places it backwards, crossing his arms and resting them on the top of the back of it. "So, dude, who is it? Is it Craig? You're always hanging out with him!"

This caught my attention, and I jerk to face him. "No!"

"Then who is it?" Kenny pressures, leaning forward again. He keeps the eye-contact strong, making me a bit uncomfortable.

"N-nobody." I advert eye-contact again, rubbing my arm gently. I realize I haven't set my paintbrush down, and get a nice long orange streak on my arm from it. I don't clean it. "Can we talk about something else, please?"

"Mmmm, okay. You going to Token's party tonight?"

"Yeah, me and Craig." I pause, regretting adding the 'and Craig' part. Hopefully he won't press on. He gives a small smile.'

"Do you know if there's going to be booze? I'd dying for some right about now." Luckily, I do know. Well, luckily for him, I honestly don't really care whether or not he finds out before the party. Everyone knows Kenny wouldn't skip out on any event like that, booze or no booze. Those are always chances to pick up a girl, and Kenny loved to make out, and further. Though, it wasn't limited to girls.

"Mhm, I believe so." I give a nod.

"Just what I wanted to hear!" and just as quickly as he came, Kenny left, patting my back and returning to his own group of friends, and away from my anxiety-filled body.


	10. Chapter 10

**sorry this took so long, I've been having a bit of emotional problems**

* * *

Craig and I stood by the door to Token's house, though I had yet to open the door. The sounds of the party filled both our ears, nonetheless, with complete clarity. I gripped the knob, palms sweating and making the knob ever so slightly slippery. Neither of us spoke.

Now, this certainly wouldn't be such a dilemma if I hadn't had such a horrid fear of loud noises. I never have liked them, but due to my ADHD, a lot of different sounds coming in causes me to freak out. My therapist told me it was called 'sensory overload'. Considering such a thing, it's pretty obvious why I was hesitating to do such a simple task as open the door and enter the mansion. Anybody in my situation would do the same, I believe.  
Despite not mentioning this to Craig, he didn't seem to be making any noises of protest against my hesitation. I glance over at him, making eye contact. He gave a small smile back, and this gives me enough power to twist the knob. The door swung open, and I was almost immediately greeted with the sounds of loud music and chatter from teenagers.

I quickly dive into the building, glancing back at Craig as he did the same. It was loud in the house, but at least for now, I was fine.

Craig spent little time dawdling before he wandered into the kitchen, pouring himself a shot of vodka. I envy that freedom, the ability to drink without hesitation. I was never so carefree, my medication doesn't allow such a thing, and the thought of my mom finding out I was drinking causes me to sweat. I would be grounded for, like, ever.

He quickly swallows his shot glass, and fills it again. However, this time, he grabbed a second small glass, filling it up as well. I knew what was going to happen, of course.

"Drink up," he says, handing me the small glass of alcohol. Craig downs his second shot as he hands it over, eyes shutting as he does so.

"Are you sure we won't get caught?" I whisper, grabbing the glass, holding it up to my face to smell it. It reeks, but I couldn't exactly expect much else from a shot. "Like, you know for a fact mom won't find out?"

"Chill out, it's fine."

"What if it wasn't?" I yelp, kicking him in the shin. He simply backs up, laughing.

"Hey, don't get violent now." He tells me, flipping the bird momentarily before pouring both our glasses once more. He seems pretty keen on getting us drunk. Perhaps, however, this is for the best. It's possible I would mellow out due to the intoxication. So, I accept it, downing it rather quickly to get the foul taste through my mouth as fast as I can.

I take this chance to glance around me. The house was as fancy as usual, the highest quality tech around the building. In the living room closest to my current position, I see Bebe and her gang sitting by the tv. A horror movie seems to be playing. Beer bottles and soda cans litter the floor around them, and I can faintly make out the figure of Kenny and someone else making out. I don't recognize the other person, nor do I care too much to find out who it could be.

A bit aways from the TV I see Stan and Kyle simply sitting around, laughing about something. While Stan looks shit-faced drunk, Kyle seems as though he hasn't sipped a single drip of alcohol. This is certainly possible. Stan seems to be leaning against his super best friend, having trouble keeping himself up. They don't seem like they notice anybody but each other around them.

Somehow between drinking shots and me scanning the house, Craig made his way towards Clyde and Token. They seem like they would be any day, none showing signs of intoxication or strange behaviour. At least they stay the same.

One of the girls, whom I haven't bothered to learn the name to, yells out over the noise (how, however, is unknown to me) that a game of truth or dare was to be played.

"Isn't that, I don't know, a little Juvenile?" I hear Craig protest, rolling his eyes.

"Ahh c'mon, Craig, it'll be fun!" the nameless girl insists, slugging an arm around his shoulder. I almost jump in, not really wanting some stranger touching him. I don't. That's stupid and possessive and I'm not going to be that creepy best friend.

Despite the protesting of Craig and a few other people (including myself), we somehow end up in a circle, ready to play the game. My head is throbbing from the alcohol and noise level, making it hard to focus on the game at hand.

I know that Stan and Kyle kissed. Bebe had to do a stupid dance in front of the group and Kenny had to rate everyone on a hotness scale. Other things happened, obviously. I just didn't catch it. I was focusing harder on blocking out excess noise than what stupid dare someone was forced to do.

A noise broke me out of my focus,

"Tweek, truth or dare?" Kenny asks, leaning in. I look upward at him. Knowing Kenny, he probably had some strange perverted dare in mind if I chose that option, so obviously I went for truth. I wasn't about to do something disgusting because some ass in a game of truth or dare told me to.

"T-truth.."

"Who do you like?" my heart skipped a beat. Who do I like? Do I even like someone. I tug at the collar to my shirt, beginning to sweat. I don't fucking know if I like someone, that's not something I just have access to in my head.

"Nobody?" I hesitantly answer, beginning to feel anxiety rise up inside of me.

"Mmm, you're not supposed to lie." he told me.

"I'm not lying!" I quickly yelp at the other boy, leaping forward and tugging at the ends of my long, messy hair. I push my way past the horde of drunk people, and despite feeling awfully dizzy from the alcohol consumption, I seemed to have no issues making it past the door and into the streets. I didn't think, and as panic filled me, causing my inability to breath, I collapsed by a small park. I rolled onto the cold grass, curling up into a small ball. It was cold. I'm not okay. I hate parties. I hate alcohol. I want to go home.

I held onto the edges of my shirts, holding back tears. Why was I panicking? Nothing crazy happened. Relax. Calm. I can't calm, though, I can't relax. My heart pounds harder, harsher in my chest. I run a hand through my hair, count to ten. Rinse and repeat.

I grow dizzier and dizzier. The world begins to fade. Maybe I'm dying. I don't know. I close my eyes, accepting the cold air surrounding me.

"Dude, what the fuck?" I jump up, pulling my knees to my chest. I look up at the cause of the noise. Craig is standing there. He takes off his jacket, putting it over my shoulders. "Are you okay?" He sits down beside me, a look of concern plastered across his pale face. I let out a small laugh, wiping a few tears off my face.

"I'm falling apart, Craig." I laugh, crying a little bit harder now. I grip his shirt, burrowing my face into his shoulder. It's warm. "I can't help it, I'm sorry. I'm sorry, I'm sorry."

He shakes his head, wrapping his arms around me "Calm down, it's okay. Don't apologize." he told me, but it did little to calm me down.

"I can't calm down." I sob louder, coughing. My chest is tight, so tight. I feel as though I'm going to throw up. It's gross, I feel gross. I probably look gross.

"Yes you can." he assures me, running a large hand through my hair. It's calming, and I begin to calm. It's weird how that works. My breathing begins to grow less rapid, and my crying draws to a halt. It seems okay. I draw away, looking at him in the eyes.

"Can we go home?" I ask.

"Of course."

* * *

 **Apologizes for it being short, and not exactly happy. I wanted to make it a long, happy fluffy chapter because I waited so long, but I couldn't do that, I guess.**  
 **Still not sure what direction I want to take with this**


	11. Chapter 11

**First off, We're canon now! Can you believe that? It's so nice..**  
 **As well, Season 19 is obvious NOT canon in this story ! I tried thinking of how i could let it slip in but it doesn't work. What's season 19? This fanfiction doesn't know.**  
 **Second, sorry that it's so short ! I was going to write more but this just seemed like such a nice stopping point..**  
 **Another quick note- my zombieau will probably end up becoming creek too, if you're interested in zombies ahaha.**  
 **I also made a tumblr strictly for South park! Follow me at Tweekytweak !**

The walk is astoundingly horrid for myself. Though unknown if it was nearly as bad for Craig, who still is sticking by my side despite my increasing amounts of trembling. I keep simply staring forward, focusing only on my feet and the road ahead of me. Step. Step. In. Out. Do not panic. I think the normal person wouldn't be nearly as good at being panicked as me. They'd get themselves hurt. Though, it's a surprise I'm not hurt. Aside from being slightly cold, I'm… Fine. Physically, that is.

Every second and every step seemed like an eternity. Anxiety dueled with the deadly silence blanketing me and Craig made the walk that much worse. It was my fault. We were going home because of me. I can't help but feel at fault, I am at fault. I'm not sure if Craig believes it, but I know deep in my heart it's true. Even if I'm the only one in the world to think so.

Craig seems distant, lost in thought. Perhaps, I'd even say, he looked rather upset. While this is reasonable for someone in his situation, as someone who just had to leave a party to help the whackjob he lives with calm down, it was off putting for me. I think he was trying to hide it. I can see through him, however, he's my best friend. If I can't see through that, who will?

"I'm sorry." I grip the collar of my shirt, tugging on it. I used to do that to my hair, but I'm trying to solve the issue. My shirt's collar, while less relieving, does the trick well enough. Craig stops walking, turning to face me eye-to-eye.

"Don't be." Craig mumbled to me, shaking his head. He gently tugged on my hand, removing it from my shirt. "It's okay. Trust me."

"But it's not!" I pull away, frowning. "It's not okay! You wanted to go hang out with your friends and enjoy the party! I selfishly took you away because I'm anxious and dumb!" he stops. I stop. A tear slips down my face, rolling down. Frowning, he pulls me into a tight embrace.

"Don't say that." he whispers to me, tightening his arms around me. It was warm. Craig's really, unbelievably, warm. It's kinda strange, actually, how warm he could be out here. Especially considering I had his jacket. "It's fine. Trust me. You didn't want to go anyways, I made you." I draw back, and he releases his grip on me. I shake my head.

"You didn't make me." I feel pathetic right now. I'm not weak, I'm a strong person. Yet, here I am, in tears on the streets, drunk. Just broken out of the embrace of someone I've only known for two months or so. I look like trash. "Can we just go home now, please? I wanna watch and movie. And sleep."

"Of course." He slips his finger into mine, and I don't pull back. If it weren't for the fact that the streets were barren, I would draw back. I wouldn't want people to assume we were together. Not after tonight. I'm too scared to let people think such a thing. I already have enough people could make fun of me for. I don't particularly want them to have more. Yet, right now, his warm, soft hands were comforting. I feel my anxiety flow out of me. My breathing returns to a normal rate. I loosens his grip. I think he noticed.

"You feeling better now?" he asks.

"I think so."

"Well, good, because we're here."

I jump, looking up from the sidewalk towards my home. It's true, there lays my home directly in front of us. I climb up the stairs to my house, gripping the knob. It's early, my mom will question it. I sweat, and turn to face him.

"Can we, just, sit for a little bit?" I ask, glancing down at the wood porch.

"Of course." He seems more excited to sit down then myself, plopping himself onto the porch with no hesitation after I ask. His fingers draw away from my hand, and we sit together. The cold air freezes the tips of my ears, and I can hardly imagine how bad it is for Craig, considering his current lack of a jacket- which is, in fact, my fault.

"What happened, in there?" he asks, referring to the party.

"I.. I don't know. I'm not really good with people, you know that."

"Yeah, sure, but it's not exactly like you cry and run away from every social interaction." I tense up at his response, tracing the creases on my palm.

"Craig.."

"Is that a question, or do you just like saying my name?"

I snort, punching his shoulder gently. "Dude, shut up. Can we just not talk about it?"

"Can we watch Big Hero 6 when we get inside?"

"Uh, sure?" I hesitate. That didn't exactly answer my question, but it's not as if I had another plan for the rest of the night. I never have plans for the day. Plus, I was rather fond of that movie anyhow.

"Then we can drop it." he hums, standing up once more. He holds his hand out to me, and I grasp it carefully. He pulls me up. With that, we shuffle through the door and into my house again.

Like a silent agreement, we both begin to walk up the narrow stairway into my room, opting to watch the movie in my room opposed to out in the living room. My parents seem to already be asleep, judging on the lack of light in the house. That doesn't exactly change much, only means that the sound of my television must be lower than normal.

His lengthy legs don't quite fit my bed. Regardless, he burrows himself under a heavy fortress of blankets and pillows. I scurry to join him, and within a few minutes we are laying in my bed, within a blanket fort of sorts.

Due to the rather compact size of my bed- it's meant for one person- we do have to touch. When he shifts, my heart rate increases. Though the reason for such is honestly above my knowledge.

Craig starts to fade first, blue eyes fluttering shut about halfway through the span of the movie. He was never exactly the excellent at staying awake during a movie. Something about the atmosphere sends him into a slow spiral of tiredness, but I don't mind. In fact, it's almost comforting to watch the normally very defensive boy seem so calm, so weak. He seemed almost… cute.

The other boy tends to shift a lot in his sleep. Since we don't exactly share a bed on normal days, I suppose this fact slipped my mind. He turns, burrowing his face into my chest. My heart skips a beat, and I begin to tremble a bit. He's not awake, is he? No. He was much too defenseless to be awake, even if he was pretending. I wonder if he misses his home, or his sister. Did he sleep like this at home?

Despite living with the boy for the last month or two, it was like he was still a mystery I need to solve. While he knew a fair amount about me, though my mom certainly helped with that (She's shown him my baby pictures!), it wasn't like I was talking about myself any more than he did. He was just too unreadable for me.

I bring my hand out towards his raven black hair, pausing momentarily before running my fingers through his hair. He has soft hair. It's like silk. Maybe I like him.

I close my eyes, wrapping my arm around him. I want to sleep now, too.

 **Lmoa one day I'll let them be together**


	12. Chapter 12

Craig seems a bit off as of lately, and I can't exactly put my finger on why. Though, I can certainly see why he would be such a thing, but it's bothering me. Yes, my reaction at the party was both inappropriate and bad for everyone there, but it wasn't exactly the most comforting sight to see your roommate and best friend act to strangely towards you. Even if it's only been three days since the party.

Throughout the last two days since the the party, I've accepted something rather substantial about myself. I think I'm gay. Not only that, however, but I do believe I fancy Craig. I'm not sure for how long I've felt like that, but I'm starting to believe it was for a while. I don't know. It's weird. I don't particularly understand it, my feelings for Craig. I certainly doubt the affection is returned. At the very least, not the way I feel for him.

In a way, I suppose I've been weird around him, too, because of these feelings. It's more of a mutual weirdness. Yeah, that's it.

I need to get out of bed. I grip the edge, pulling myself off of the cushioned mattress, landing forcefully onto the ground with a thud. I hear loud laughter from the room over. I hiss, slamming my fist on the wall. This not only fails to stop Craig from laughing, but encouraged him to laugh louder. I scowl, but I'm not particularly upset about it. I wait momentarily, before standing back up. Today's a school day, I do not have forever to sit around on the floor. Mondays are the worst.

Grabbing a new button up shirt from my drawers, and a pair of jeans, I scurry to the bathroom. At this point of my morning routine, Craig has already left our bathroom, and it was now my time to get clean. I throw the clothing to one corner, before stripping myself of my dirty clothing from the day before. I did this everyday. This is muscle memory, done almost as a way to comfort myself.

The shower water is slightly cold because of Craig. He uses all the hot water, leaving me in a cool mess. This would bother me more if it didn't give me an excuse to leave the bathroom in a reasonable time. The warm(ish) water beats gently against my back as I stand in silence.

I like showering in the morning, it gives me time to fully wake up, and time to think about my day. Recently I've mostly been thinking about Craig.

It takes me only a few minutes to get out of the bathroom on most days. Today is like most days. I slip out of the shower, the water no longer of a warm variety. I slip on the new clothing for today, though mostly identical to all my other outfits for all the other days, these are clean.

I hear Craig shuffling down the stairs for breakfast, and I quickly exit the bathroom to join him. The parents are already out of the house, so Craig and me have the entire building to ourselves. I like this part of the day. It is routine. Much alike my old routine, just this time with the existence of Craig. Maybe I like this routine more.

"Hey gaylord." Craig sneers, slugging my arm playfully. I push him gently, sticking my tongue out. He's such a loser.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever." I skip the last few steps, landing on the floor forcefully. I turn to the other boy, placing my hands onto my hips. "What do you wanna eat?" I ask him.

"Pancakes?"

"Again?" I roll my eyes, turning to enter the kitchen.

"You know it!" he follows closely behind, gripping the handle to the fridge once it was within arm's reach. He pulls out the milk and eggs for me, as he does most days he requests this meal. That was, well, most days together.

I've always been quite decent at cooking. My mother began to teach me at a young age to cook, so that when I grew up I wouldn't have to rely on others to feed me. I actually quite enjoy the task anyways, so it soon became a hobby of mine. I commonly cook meals for the family now.

I mix the ingredients slowly but carefully as Craig pulls out the griddle pan. He knows what to do by now.

It's not long before the pancake part is done. However, today I'm going to make the sauce. This I don't do often, only on special occasions. Today is not a special occasion, however, I'm just in the mood.

It's a caramelized banana with rum sauce. While it does have rum in it, it is not alcoholic, so I doubt my parents would care that much that I will be using it. Craig glances at the rum bottle hesitantly.

"Aren't you the one who is, like, against drinking?"

"We're not drinking!" I howl, pouring about a shot onto the pan on top of the bananas and butter. I return the pan to the heat, finishing up the sauce. "It's a part of the sauce! The alcohol is burned out of it."

"Whatever." he responds, hopping down onto the kitchen table's chair with a small noise. I roll my eyes, grabbing the plates and setting one next to him.

"You want any coffee?" I pour myself a thermos full of the brown liquid before glancing over at the other boy. He rarely does, but it's really mostly just a habit at this point to ask house guests if they want a drink. Not that Craig was really a 'guest' anymore.

"Not really."

"Whatever floats your boat," I finally sit down at the table to enjoy the pancakes. I'm not exactly the most fond of eating in the morning, but I've gotten into the habit of both preparing and ingesting food. It's strange, how much my life changed when Craig decided to sit with me.

It isn't long before we head out the door to school.

I have marine biology with Clyde and Token. Craig is taking Physics, so it's just the three of 's kinda weird for me. Clyde and Token have been friends for years, and I'm not particularly close to either of them. Really, Craig is the only one in our group that I'm really 'friends' with. I should probably solve this, but I'm not particularly good at being friendly.

I especially don't think Clyde exactly 'appreciates' my company. I believe him and Craig were really close, and I sort of just wedged between them. He always sees a bit distant and cold towards me, and yet to everyone else I can see his smiles. I don't believe we will ever be good friends.

Token and Clyde don't really talk to me during class, but I know I have a group of kids to turn to do during group projects if needed. I don't mind their distance from me. Honestly, I prefer not being talked to during class. I get distracted too easily, and with the influence of conversation, that certainly doesn't get better.

I scribble down my notes furiously, glancing over to my side. I sit next to both Clyde and Token, and another kid I'm not sure of the name of. I try to block out the voices surrounding me, but it doesn't go exactly well.

"Did you hear about Kenny..?" Clyde asks, and I can hear a hint of worry in his voice. I furrow my brow, biting the inside of my mouth gently. Kenny?

"Oh, yeah. Stan was talking about it earlier. Really unfortunate." Token's voice responded. I look up, watching the two out of the corner of my eye. They both seemed rather worried. What exactly happened?

"I wonder how his family is taking it." Clyde rested his head on his hand, frown growing larger.

"..D-did Kenny die..?" I whisper, face bright red from embarrassment. I didn't want to burst into their conversation, but I was worried. I… I didn't mind Kenny or anything, despite everything.

"What?" Token asked, letting out a small laugh. "Dude, he got into a fight with Craig, he's not deceased."

"He did what?" I grip the edge of my desk. "Why?"

"How are we supposed to know? They were sent home with suspensions during first." Clyde sighed, he was obviously worried about his friends. "Heard Craig won that fight, though. People are saying Kenny lost a tooth."

"Jesus Christ!" I yell, as the bell for the end of school interrupts our conversation. I grab my stuff, slinging it over my shoulder and bounced out of the classroom before anyone else could. I had to get home and ask Craig what happened.


	13. Chapter 13

I push my way through the crowds of teenagers, all of which are also quite eager to get out of the building. I shove people out of the way, despite my small frame. I need to get home. I hear 'Hey, what the hell man' and 'Excuse you' from people who I rammed. I don't bother sending out an apology to the crowd, because I really don't care.

It takes only two minutes for me to navigate myself out of the high school's doors and begin dashing home. If it were for any other reason, I would probably just power walk. This is Craig, though, and he was worth the run. I turn the corner leading to my house, each step feeling heavy and forced. I can feel my heart racing and my throat burning. Each step was harder and harder to push myself forward, but I try to ignore it. I had places to be and things to do.

Seeing the door to my house, speeding up my pace to make it there. My legs are short, so I doubt my pace is in any way fast. I hop up the stairs, foot slipping at the top step. Glancing down at my feet, I see the ice I begin to fall, grasping for the handles next to the stairs. I don't grab onto it. I turn to my side.

The stairs jam into my side, and I tumble down to the bottom. The bottom of the stairs is cold. I can feel gravel digging into my back, but I don't move. I don't think I'm bleeding, but I can feel the bruises that will soon plague my body.

Staring up at the vast sky, I squirm. It's cloudy today. I need to get Craig.

I slowly bring me up off of the ground. I pause. My back is sore now. I grip the edges of my shirt and begin to climb up the stairs again, much more careful now. My palms practically freeze to the metal bars as I walk.

Once my feet are secure on the porch wood, I speed up. I reach out for the doorknob, and yank it to the side and rush through the door. I skid into the tile flooring of the kitchen momentarily, dropping my backpack and other school necessities onto the floor.

I glance around the main rooms quickly, before hopping up the carpeted stairs. Where is he? I smash my door open first, as it's the closest room to the stairs. Nothing. Turning the corner, I open his door open next. Also empty. I let out a small grunt of frustration.

"Are you alright, hun?" I hear from my parents room. My mom soon comes out, staring at me with worried eyes. "Where's Craig..?"

"I don't know!" I can feel tears welling in my eyes. It's not really something I can control, so I just rub my eyes to at least attempt to keep the liquid in its proper place.

"Did he not come with you or something?" she asks, taking a few steps and rubbing my shoulders from the front.

"No.." I admit, glancing to the side. "He… he got sent home. For… a fight. Suspension."

Mom frowns, shaking her head. Maybe I shouldn't of mentioned that? "Oh, that boy. Go get him, can you?" she asks.

"T-that's what I'm trying to work on, mom."

"Then go! Jesus, Tweek, no need to get defensive."

I don't bother responding, and I mark a mental note to apologize later on. Now is not the time. I wave to my mom, carefully going down the stairs and running out the door once again. The cool air greets me, practically biting the tips of my ear with its breeze.

The roads is empty. I doubt Craig would go back to school, not after a suspension. Perhaps the pond? Without any better idea, I bring myself towards the narrow dirt road leading to the pond. He doesn't exactly go there often. Why am I going to Stark's pond? Since Craig moved in I've seen him there once, and I brought him there!

The branches of low ground trees hit me in the face and my sides, leaving small scratches and red marks where the land. I ignore the feeling, it's not exactly something I should be worrying about at this time. The dirt flings into the air ass I run, dirt staining the bottoms of my pants. The ground is turning and winding, and with each step it grows narrower.

I see a figure by the water's edge, sitting on their knees. I slowly bring myself closer to them, not wanting to startle them, nor wanting them to be aware of my presence.

The familiar blue hat is resting on top of the head. Yes, this is Craig. I dash towards him.

I push myself forward, and though my legs ache from the last 30 minutes or so of off and on running, I keep my pace up. His head jerks to face me and he raises an eyebrow. Once he was close enough, my hands curl into a fist and slam it into his face. The boy falls back, and grips his face with his hands.

"Dude, uh, the fuck?!" he hisses out, gripping his face still. He pulls his hand back, looking quite upset.

"Where the hell have you been? Agh, why did you fight Kenny?"

"Tweek, I don't, jesus fucking christ, I don't want to talk about it." he mumbles, running a hand through his hair, slipping it under his hat.

"Well, too bad." I push him, frowning. "You got suspended for fighting Kenny, and then didn't come home. Spill."

"He pressured you."

"What?" I ask, staring at him. What was he talking about?

"The party, retard."

"O-oh." I look at the ground, before sitting next to him. My fingers begin to twirl the grass below me out of habit. I glance back up at Craig, "Did… did you really fight him because of that..?"

"He deserved it." Craig mumbles as he sits back, resting onto his hands. He looks up at the sky, a worried expression plastered on his face. What was the other boy thinking? I don't say anything, only pull my legs up against my chest. Craig shouldn't of fought Kenny, I don't care. I watch the grass sway slightly with the breeze.

Craig's eyes lift up, and I can feel his gaze. "Sorry."

I glance up again, shaking my head. "You're not, though. You thought this was the correct move."

He doesn't speak this time. He looks back up to the sky, hands shaking slightly. Did I upset him? This certainly wasn't my intention, and I don't particularly want to upset the boy. We're friends, and friends don't hurt each other.

Standing up, I extend my hand out to the boy. "C'mon, Craig. Let's just go home." he doesn't grab my hand right away, but as I prepare to pull it from his reach, he grips my hand. I pull him up off of the ground, but don't let go once he was up, and he doesn't try to let go either.

We walk in silence now, hand in hand. I don't want to let go, but I will once we are within public's eye. I don't… I don't want people assuming we're together. I tighten my grip, and Craig suddenly stops.

"Craig..?"

And he kisses me.

 **Kiss kiss fall in love**


	14. Chapter 14

**I wanted to make this longer but im stressed out,,**  
 **sorry for the wait.**

* * *

I can feel my face heating up as he presses his lips against me. He had let go of my hands, as they are now hovering, shaking profusely. From this proximity, I can smell faint traces of coffee on him. He's drinking coffee now? I never seem to see him make a glass... Slowly but surely my hands raise and place them on his chest. Was he always his muscular? Wait, we're kissing, he's kissing me. Why is he kissing me?

I shove him.

Breathlessly and weakly, I stagger away from Craig. Fingers curling into a loose fist, I bite my lip. I can see the shock in his own eyes as I hold my breath. What was I supposed to say? I had come out to the park to see if he was okay, not be thrown into a sudden romantic situation with my best friend.

"Why?" I hear him finally speak up, blue eyes scanning my face in attempts to pick up on any details describing how I felt. I know my face was bound to be showing how I felt, but I still continue to try and prevent such.

"Why? Jesus, Craig, you fucking kissed me! I wasn't ready, you can't just spring onto people like that!" I spit, "Can't you see that, or are you too dumb?"

"I thought you were down for it!" Craig yells back, hands shifting to fists himself.

"Down for it? Maybe if you told me!"

"What?" he asks. My breathing shuts off, and I can feel myself fading in and out of consciousness. What had been my reality only a few moments ago felt foreign, as though the air around me was not meant to be. I can see tears welling in his eyes, but I make no attempts to wipe them off, as I would perhaps a day ago.

"I said maybe I'd be down for it if you weren't as sudden about the whole thing." my voice is barely audible, but considering the sudden shift of his expression, I know full well that he heard me. My trembling is clearly worse now, I can feel nervous twitches and ticks going off like crazy. I want to be out of here.

"I'm sorry." he whispers, voice even softer than my own. It was hardly louder than a breath, but I could hear him as well. "I'm sorry." he repeats.

"Can we just go home already?" I ask, and soon after he gives a small nod towards me.

Each step felt heavy. This was nothing new, it seemed like every moment these days was anxiety ridden, each breath I took was weak. Why does this keep happening? The cold air surrounding us made me shiver, hand falling loosely to beside me. Normally I would be hoping for him to grab it at this point, but he made no such effort. I'm glad he can take a fucking hint, at least.

We grow closer and closer towards my home, and a small smile begins to form around my face. Maybe now things could be okay, now that I brought him back towards our small house, and the cold atmosphere would no longer be affecting me.

I take a moment to stare at the frozen steps at the porch of my house. Lightly and quietly, I start to laugh. I had tripped over these just an hour ago, though it feels as if that moment was forever ago, forgotten due to the increasing pain of the day. Craig seems a bit confused, but a soft laugh could be heard coming from him as well.

Gripping the railing, I take my first step onto the stairs. The ice beneath my feet fought to pull me down to the ground, and for the first time since I fell, the pain in my back came back. It was finally okay enough that I could pay attention to the physical pain I was in.

Craig and I quickly hop into the house after we get up off of the stairs, Craig doing so much faster than I had. The warm smell of coffee beckoned to me, and I grab the cup my mom had left out. Did she leave this here after I bursted out of the house, looking for Craig?

Regardless of my mom's intentions, I grab the cup of coffee and sit down carefully on the couch. Close behind me was Craig, following me like some sort of lost dog the entire time. I lean back, staring at the ceiling. It felt a bit better now.

"It's been a long day." I tell him, not bothering to look over towards the other boy.

"I can tell."

"You didn't help with it."

"I know." He says. I bite my lip again, feeling a bit of blood around my now wounded lip. This was too tense for me.

"Wanna play a game?" I glance over at him. His eyes spoke of the hurt he felt, probably from making me feel bad. Or perhaps he just felt hurt because I didn't want to kiss him, or perhaps he was hurt because I took the only cup of coffee on the counter. Probably not the last one.

"What kind of game?" Craig's voice cracks slightly as he spoke.

"A word game."

"A word game?" he laughs slightly, small nervous smile creeping onto his face.

"Yeah. I'm going to say a word, and you gotta give me a word using the last letter of my word. We'll repeat that." I explain.

"Sounds childish, but alright, Twitch." he snickers, swinging his fist at my arm gently. I give out a small laugh, and punch him lightly back.

"Okay, okay. You're childish. My word is… Sorry."

"Yelling." Craig responds, face hardening.

"Gallant."

"Truly."

"You." I press forward, placing a hand on his shoulder gently. I shake lightly. What am I doing?

"Unshrunk."

"Kiss." I wait a few moments, and the air around me and Craig seems to grow heavier and heavier, blanketing us with anxiety. With that small word, I pull him towards me. Perhaps not the best move, but nonetheless I press our lips together. He doesn't seem to mind, as he's kissing back after a small moment of hesitation.

Our lips part, and I give a small smile. He opens his mouth, and for a moment I feel as though he is going to punch me.

"Stop."


End file.
